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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26040862">Extra Extra Terrestrial</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneWeasel/pseuds/InsaneWeasel'>InsaneWeasel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Slow Unraveling of Gordon Freeman's Life [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aliens, Body Horror, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Gore, Post HLVRAI, Spooky Government, Trauma and recovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:42:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26040862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneWeasel/pseuds/InsaneWeasel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-HLVRAI, prologue an optional read. </p>
<p>Benrey's alive. The US Military isn't dead nor is the US Government. Like governments do, they want their alien back. Gordon's and the Science Team have to really kill the US Military and protect their not-quite alien, but close enough, friend. Along the way, road-trips, meeting the family and Gordon Freeman finding a new-old friend in Benrey. </p>
<p>Also, countless deaths!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benrey/Gordon Freeman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Slow Unraveling of Gordon Freeman's Life [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>279</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wake Up Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm not confident in this. The prologue, liked it. Works I haven't finished an am unsure on. Not confident.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marley Redford did not know why he was at this blown up site in the middle of the desert, nor did he care. He was sweating his ass off, and the only interesting thing was the pits of toxic sludge that were in the remaining craters. He wished some pissy environmentalist would show up so he could shoot them. They had orders to shoot anyone or anything that wasn’t the US Military on site. Despite how that thrilled him—there had been nothing to shoot.</p>
<p>He was nearing his lunchbreak. God. Finally.</p>
<p>The boys were camping in the shade provided by a tarp strapped to the top of the jeep and propped up by a pole. Marley joined them, plopping his ass down on the ground next to the cooler and resting against it. He dug out a bottle of water and poured some of it on his face before taking a drink.</p>
<p>A few grunts from the others greeted him and he nodded. He dug out his sandwich from the icebox and bit into it, not really thinking. The sun was beating down and he didn’t want to think much. Luckily, no one was very conservational.</p>
<p>Most of them had neared the end of their food break and none were in too much a hurry to go back to their duties.</p>
<p>“Whatcha think would happen if we pissed in one of them pits?” one man asked. He had finished his lunch.</p>
<p>Marley think’s his name was Chris.</p>
<p>“Dunno. Anyone gotta piss and want to try?” Trevor asked.</p>
<p>The men sat for a moment. Marley stood up. “Yeah, fuck, why not?” He had to piss, and it wasn’t like any other shit was going on. There were other teams posted around the site, but some at least were near parts of the building and could at least scavenge the wreckage.</p>
<p>Marley stumbled over to one of the sludge pits, peered over the edge at it to make sure nothing odd was there, before his hand went to his fly.</p>
<p>While he was fumbling with it, he failed to notice something rising from the sludge. Slow. A figure standing up, adjusting itself in size and shape to a more humanoid form. It was missing a human exterior. You could be understood if you missed the glowing gray eyes in the bright sun overhead and it’s gray-blue form could be mistaken as a very densely packed patch of fog in a nice woodsy area. What couldn’t be mistaken as fog were the tendrils and sharp teeth still very much there. A mouth that was currently opening.</p>
<p>Unnaturally long teeth. A mouth that opened wider than it should. Too many rows of teeth to count. Four? Five? A forked tongue stretched out, barbs lining it and then finally—an orb.</p>
<p>Blue. A dark blue.</p>
<p>A low note.</p>
<p>Marley glanced up, his fly down, but his dick still safely in his pants. He’d have to hold off on the challenge to piss in the sludge, because his pants were now damp with it as he beheld the creature. Marley wanted to run, to reach for his gun, but he was frozen. More blue orbs came out and he couldn’t move. Couldn’t react as it rose out of the pit.</p>
<p>Floating.</p>
<p>It opened it’s mouth larger in a loud scream, but it wasn’t a scream—but a distorted collection of notes that exploded outward with orbs and Marley felt a pain.</p>
<p>First like a splitting headache. Then like when you go to peel skin back from a sunburn and it goes just the slightest bit too far. He could not move his body, but he could move his eyes and he would have screamed if he could. Skin was peeling back from his hands, layer by layer. Blood started to well-up, but it wasn’t as quick as the force peeling his skin back. Soon, muscle and sinew peeled back, and he could see bone.</p>
<p>Marley could feel the sensation across his whole body, and he tried to open his mouth, but he still could not move.</p>
<p>Only watch horrified as his eyes drifted to the colorful orbs as he felt his brain begin to melt.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>The boys in their military gear jumped alert at the shout of one of the twenty-somethings who was staring in the direction Marley had gone. They hadn’t heard anything over the small radio playing, but one of them had seen the burst of color in the otherwise bland desert. He pointed in the direction of one of the pits. “I saw something.”</p>
<p>The others stood, but where there might have been something, there was nothing now. “You sure?”</p>
<p>“Yeah—Redford! Redford, you okay!”</p>
<p>A figure was walking across the sand back towards the boys. It looked vaguely Redford height. It wore Redford’s clothes that they could see. “Yeah,” it responded in a voice that almost sounded like Redford’s.</p>
<p>The other military boys relaxed, dismissing the youngest as they settled back into their conversation about their plans to hit the bar on the upcoming weekend. The youngest twenty-something stared at ‘Redford.’ Something was off.</p>
<p>It became aware when the figure was much too close for him to consider running. He drew his gun, but his hands slipped on the trigger and when he shouted, the trail of blue orbs was already drifting towards him. He could not dodge it.</p>
<p>There were only two pairs of feet that made it from the site. The oldest, Chris, in charge of the band of boys and Trevor.</p>
<p>“Fuckin—what the hell was it,” Trevor hollered.</p>
<p>“Don’t know.” Chris took a deep breath. He didn’t see it following them yet. He turned his back on Trevor. “Draw your gun and cover me. I’ll radio—” A choke. The man glanced down and saw a spot of blood blooming at his chest. He looked at Trevor.</p>
<p>Glowing gray eyes met his.</p>
<p>“How?”</p>
<p>“Keys?” was all the figure said.</p>
<p>Numbly, guided by the blue orbs, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the Jeep. He fell backward as the figure above him with the sound of flesh stretching, snapping into place, and squelching with wet and disturbing sounds reformed to form an unfamiliar face to him. The form was slightly lankier and shorter than the 6’2’ form of Trevor.</p>
<p>“What—what…” Chris muttered, clutching the bleeding hole in his chest from the gunshot wound.</p>
<p>“Shhh…” Not-Trevor held up a single finger. It held up a piece of paper in front of Chris’s face. It was a piece of junk mail. “Where is this? How do I get there?”</p>
<p>“What—”</p>
<p>“Listen. Listen. Stop being a baby, you can die in a moment—where’s this at?”</p>
<p>“…That’s,” Chris could barely think. “Two…two hours away? Small town an hour from Albuquerque.”</p>
<p>The Not-Trevor blinked at him. “Huh?”</p>
<p>“…GPS is in Jeep…why am I not dead?” Chris muttered.</p>
<p>Not-Trevor raised the gun again. “Okay.” A glance at the junk-mail paper. “Okay. Night-night. Sleep tight,” Not-Trevor fired the gun and that was the last of Chris.</p>
<p>Not-Trevor navigated to the jeep, ignoring the many skeletons on the ground. Not-Trevor took a few moments to figure out how to unlock the jeep and climbed inside. He fumbled getting the key into the ignition and adjusted the seat. Not-Trevor looked at the jeep’s controls as if they were an alien control panel. Not-Trevor looked at the GPS system and to a thankfully familiar computer-like system.</p>
<p>Not-Trevor found what he needed and jabbed in the address on the screen and saw very helpful arrows. Not-Trevor turned on the radio and after a few awkward jerks where the jeep started and stopped forward, it took off at a ludicrous speed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Reunited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: I’ve had to have rewritten this 3 times—gotten 5,000 words deep into each start, and decided—no. This isn’t it. The lead wasn’t good, the nut-graph felt stale and there was no thrill. Still not a good feel on this one, but just gonna go with it.  </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Environmentalists Publish Scathing Report Over Government Handling of Failed Operation</em>
</p>
<p>Daniel Harris | @danhar_albuquerque</p>
<p>July 4, 2009 | ALBUQUERQUE<span class="u">,</span> Reports came in two days ago from top officials at the New Mexico Environment Department about the potentially hazardous contamination of the water supply by fallout from an “substandard operation to control a potential national threat.” The response from environmentalists was immediate; many went further citing past issues from the state’s government to control issues in that region of New Mexico for decades.</p>
<p>It isn’t news that there’s concern and questions over the uninhabited parts of New Mexico the government uses for various tests.  From the 2006 “The Hills Have Eyes” to speculations on internet forums, there has long been national speculation.</p>
<p>Alamogordo, New Mexico is after all the home of the first successful test of the atomic bomb at the Trinity Site.</p>
<p>This region of the New Mexico desert was not thought to host anything similar, but despite—</p>
<p>[Click].</p>
<p>Search: black mesa</p>
<p>“No. No…Damn. They really did wipe it out, huh.”</p>
<p>Search: ‘the new mexico environmental crisis’</p>
<p>“Bingo.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Deadly waste out in New Mexico desert</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>…</em>
</p>
<p>“Nope, nope—too long. What are the comments on it?”</p>
<p>Comments:</p>
<p>phdlt_trcedu: You should have seen the disintegrated bodies. Nothing left but skeletons.</p>
<p>Reply (3)</p>
<p>GayAndHorny: Come check out my blogs for more pictures of shirtless men? ;D</p>
<p>GayAndHorny: Also, source?</p>
<p>Jbron54: @GayAndHorny no one cares about ur blog, also just google it</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>[Click. Click.]</p>
<p>Search: ‘the new mexico environmental crisis’ bodies</p>
<p> [Click. Clickclickclickclick.]</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dammit.”</p>
<p>“What are you trying to find?” a second voice. The chair creaks. “We also don’t allow people to…tape over the library webcams. Why did you…?”</p>
<p>“Nothing. Nothing. I have to go.” The chair hits the edge of a desk.</p>
<p>The sound of tape being peeled back. A librarian looks curiously at the camera. Her eyes dart to the computer. “Oh, that is very disgusting.”</p>
<p>The computer surveillance ends.</p>
<p>…___...</p>
<p>Gordon wasn’t an idiot. He’d hope after five weeks gone from society, most of it spent in the time-warped Xen, and some of it spent wandering the defunct halls of Black Mesa, and only three weeks returned to it, it would be clear to anyone he knew he was under surveillance.</p>
<p>Even after signing an NDA he still felt like he was on the government’s shit list; the NDA that covered everything from Black Mesa’s existence, its purpose, Sunkist, Tommy’s father, the US Military’s involvement and potential war crimes, his own murders, and taking up a grand total of five pages alone full of things to never speak about with anyone—Benrey.</p>
<p>He was pretty damn sure someone didn’t trust his signature or his very, very committed attempt to return to normal society. The only issue was he was too curious for his own good and wanted to know what the hell happened.</p>
<p>Mostly to confirm he did indeed go through all that shit.</p>
<p>Gordon made it back to his apartment in record time, having broken a few speed limits out of a desperation to get home, collapse on his couch and groan. He already had a migraine again.</p>
<p>Ever since Black Mesa, life had been anything but comfortable. He arrived home to that NDA for starters, an eviction notice, a nice check for his silence after he returned the NDA, plenty of calls from Marla—his ex-girlfriend and mother of Joshua—and soon after he’d been home for a day, calls from Dr. Coomer, Bubby, Tommy and even Darnold of all people. The latter’s call had been a short one congratulating Gordon on also making it out of there alive and saying he was working for Dr. Coomer now.</p>
<p>Gordon Freeman had been avoiding returning most of Tommy’s calls after the first week. Not because he didn’t like Tommy, but because he felt bad for turning down all of Tommy’s invitations to hang out purely on the basis of—“Look, Tommy—I really don’t want to go out and do things. Staying inside is good. Going out is bad. I am very easily tired since Black Mesa. No, I do want to see Sunkist. Yeah, I will come by eventually. Just now, now isn’t a good time.”</p>
<p>As for Dr. Coomer and Bubby—“No, Dr. Coomer, I’m not looking for a job right now. That’s great. No—no. We’re not robbing a bank. Tell Bubby I said hi.” That over time had turned into: “Sorry, no, Dr. Coomer. I’m flattered, really. But I just need a break after Black Mesa. I don’t—no, I understand, but I don’t want to work in your lab. Yes, yes, I can hear Bubby in the background. No, no—please don’t put him—hello, Bubby. No. No I’m not brain-dead. I just, I’m kind of mentally drained and I’m not really…yeah. Okay, okay I get it. Maybe next time.”</p>
<p>Gordon was not ready for society again. He did his best. He saw Joshua on the weekends and put on the best mask of ‘I am seriously fine, I am not suffering from extreme bouts of insomnia and flinching at loud noises like a cat sprayed with water.’ Marla accepted it, but he had a feeling she was starting to question his cover-story about a serious issue at working that required an out of country visit to a foreign land on the spot. Mostly, she was probably questioning it, because the bruises under his eyes were starting to get deep</p>
<p>Also, probably because his right hand was obviously a prosthetic.</p>
<p>He said it was an accident. A car accident.</p>
<p>Marla just pointed at the glowing light near his wrist.</p>
<p>“Uh…the battery pack?”</p>
<p>“Right…”</p>
<p>Gordon wasn’t even sure if he had to charge his hand and if so, how.</p>
<p>That wasn’t the biggest issue with his hand. The biggest problem was how Gordon now had to account for no ability to feel pressure, heat or pain with it—meaning he banged the damn thing on surfaces often and when holding things, the hand seemed to be stronger than what a normal hand should be and he often crushed or shattered things. He broke pens writing with his right hand when he wasn’t careful. And writing—well. Tearing through the paper kind of defeated the point of it. He now just wrote with his left hand.</p>
<p>Gordon was sure he’d get the hang of it. He was already starting to feel a spatial awareness of it now and he could tell from the pressure higher up his arm how hard he was holding or pressing onto something. Though, he couldn’t tell the number of times he had gone to grab his glasses or scratch an itch with his right hand and smacked himself a little too hard with his own hand trying to do that.</p>
<p>He did find out regardless of how he handled his hand, it did have more strength than his normal hand. Which made it very good for crushing cans of soda and punching things. But just because his wrist and hand were super strong, did not mean the rest of his normal human arm was.</p>
<p>Did Gordon find that out by punching a brick wall? Yes.</p>
<p>Did he feel the resounding impact roll up into his forearm, elbow and shoulder with varying amounts of pain? Hell yes.</p>
<p>Did the brick wall break, which despite nursing his arm the rest of the day and day after and day after that still seem pretty damn cool? Yeah, and Gordon was almost tempted to do it again.</p>
<p>When Gordon wasn’t attempting to get his hand to work as it should, he did his best to lay on his couch in a constant state of half-awareness, never asleep enough to rest, never awake enough to function, staring at his TV or playing video-games one-handed on days he was very tired, and two-handed but carefully on days he was not as tired, and on better days Gordon packed up his apartment to move home until he had a plan for what to do next in life.</p>
<p>Sometimes, he liked to take walks. Mostly to just look around at his surroundings and revel in them. It was nice, even on humid and sweltering hot days, to feel the sun and the wind, and even the damn bugs and feel free of the confining walls of Black Mesa. It helped him feel attached and apart of the world again.</p>
<p>He liked to window shop or buy small things at the nearby shops he’d never been to with how busy he’d always been.</p>
<p>Gordon had even become a weekly visitor of a crafts store nearby run by a local couple who he bought decorative pencils from, nice stationery and a small painting of a golden retriever playing with bubbles that reminded him of Sunkist.</p>
<p>And consequently, the blue bubbles in the picture reminded him of Benrey.</p>
<p>Sometimes, Gordon thought humoring himself, he missed Benrey’s endless muttered rambles. Some made no sense to Gordon, some made a good amount of sense, and some Gordon even was actually listening to fully.</p>
<p>Did he miss Benrey? Not really. Gordon did sometimes feel a bit of shame. Out of all the people he killed, if he had to regret one—if he had to really regret it, and if you asked him multiple times over multiple days, and maybe he’d been sipping something strong—he might say he regretted killing Benrey.</p>
<p>Benrey <em>did</em> deserve it. After all, Gordon didn’t have a proper right hand now, although he was grateful it was not a gun.</p>
<p>That would not make normal life easy.</p>
<p>But Benrey also didn’t seem to be openly malicious towards at Gordon and the Science Team. Not like the number of military dudes shooting at him to kill.</p>
<p>Though. Gordon thought with a bitter taste. He wasn’t sure any of those scientists had been malicious and they were dead.</p>
<p>Oh well. Can’t change the past.</p>
<p>Gordon got up from the couch where he was laying face down on it, staring at a black TV screen. He hadn’t slept at all last night, but he was feeling restless and jittery, so he stood up and decided on a walk.</p>
<p>He needed air. Fresh air would wipe away the recurring thoughts of murders he’d committed.</p>
<p>He left his apartment near sundown to go on a walk.</p>
<p>The streets had quieted, and he could avoid the eyes of others and pretend he was in a limbo between society and the hell he’d left and just blissfully think of nothing.</p>
<p>The summer heat had chilled some, but the humidity was high. Sweat started to inch its way down his neck and into his shirt collar where Gordon reflexively wiped it. Like most people, he never really enjoyed being covered in his sweat and body-fluids for hours on end, but after being stuck in the HEV suit for an apparent five weeks, he’d become more scrupulous about his hygiene.</p>
<p>Gordon stared at the cracked sidewalk as he walked, his mind wandering to the more mundane thoughts, because he couldn’t afford to touch the rest.</p>
<p>Should he work at Dr. Coomer’s lab? Should he return Tommy’s calls? Did he <em>really</em> want to go back to his childhood home—it was a few hours away and that means he’d have to get up a lot earlier to go get Joshua from Marla? He’d always judged classmates that moved back to their parents’ home after graduation, but now he could see that as the most comfortable option. Just a retreat to somewhere less busy, less likely to have aliens and simpler.</p>
<p>The distant sound of traffic and sirens was audible, but not on the forefront of his mind as he toed a pebble with his sandaled foot. It rolled out of his way and he glanced up to look at the setting sun. It was nice. He’d sometimes stare out his window now that he was out of the cursed halls of the Black Mesa that blended together into shades of gray just to see the sunset and sunrise.</p>
<p>It made him feel smaller. Content. The world went on. Uninterrupted.</p>
<p>The sirens had drifted away, but he heard a car screech across the tarmac further down the road. Gordon glanced towards it, mildly irritated at the interruption to his peace and realized either what he was witnessing was a street race or something he didn’t want to be involved in.</p>
<p>Gordon dove between another apartment building and the crafts shop. He nearly tripped on a large rock that was painted like a ladybug he recognized as their doorstopper they sometimes used on busy days to keep the door from swinging shut at the speed of sound and slapping an innocent customer’s body into the floor.</p>
<p>Yes, that was exactly his experience.</p>
<p> A jeep barreled past, partially smoking and straight into a light pole which came crashing down—luckily not on the car—with a loud thud. The car behind it screeched to a halt and two men and a woman stepped out.</p>
<p>The men were dressed like most stereotypical guards—although at least their employer let them wear short-sleeves under the Kevlar considering the recent 100-degree spikes in weather. The woman was dressed in an immaculate gray suit. Her blonde hair with brown roots was tied into a pristine bun and where he expected the clack of heels there was none. Despite the professional attire, her shoes were brown combat boots with a visible wear to them.</p>
<p>God, he was witnessing something incredibly shady, wasn’t he? Gordon kept his breathing quiet and didn’t dare make a noise as the guards pulled out very large guns and the woman pulled out a briefcase, using the hood of the car as a table to pull something out. A small device.</p>
<p>Gordon glanced towards the jeep. The figure in the driver’s seat was still slumped over.</p>
<p>If he called 911 would they believe anything he was witnessing?</p>
<p>Like whose to say those weren’t cops or something. He couldn’t see any sign of a badge on them, but that wasn’t as concerning as the very large guns which could turn his direction if he did think to pull out his cell.</p>
<p>Gordon glanced further down between the gap and the buildings and saw a wooden fence.</p>
<p>Good. Great. Not an exit then. He guessed he was watching this unfold.</p>
<p>The trio was beginning to approach the jeep, slowly and cautiously. Whatever was in the driver’s side must be dangerous or a criminal or…</p>
<p>The figure straightened in the driver’s side and pushed open the door to the jeep, seemingly unaware or unworried by the guns pointed at him. His movements had an odd jerkiness to them, and Gordon unconsciously peered out further to get a better look</p>
<p>God, why did the world hate him?</p>
<p>Even from here, Gordon recognized Benrey with some sort of sixth sense. The man radiated something chaotic that at this point Gordon had been around him enough his brained homed in on enough to spot him in a crowd. Hell, if he sniffed the air, he might even be able to smell the oddly strong scent of ozone, gunpowder and indescribably alien smell that clung to Benrey.</p>
<p>He was alive. He was here. He was about to be gunned down or something.</p>
<p>Benrey probably deserved it.</p>
<p>Gordon was going to ignore this. This had nothing to do with him. He was done. Black Mesa and everything involving it was over. He’d even signed the NDA’s. This was over. How was he here after weeks?</p>
<p>Benrey stepped onto the road, regarded the trio as the men raised their guns and then leaned on the jeep. The alien—man—something? was clearly fazed or tired. Kind of understandable considering Gordon was pretty sure Benrey had died. And then just crashed a jeep into a damn pole.  </p>
<p>Gordon was starting to feel like maybe he should step in. Gordon reconsidered that and looked at himself. He didn’t even have a gun. He was in shorts, a t-shirt and sandals. He was outnumbered. No, no—this wasn’t happening. If he dug his nails deeper into his palm of his clenched fist, he’d realize it was a dream.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Benrey greeted the men and woman. “Want to—want to put those down? Can I see some…some uh…ID?”</p>
<p>Gordon saw the woman click something and a shrill piercing noise rang out. He flinched and covered his ears, but the men and woman must have been wearing earplugs, because they weren’t affected. Benrey was.</p>
<p>The alien slumped and fell backwards.</p>
<p>Okay. Fuck it. Gordon grabbed the lady-bug rock with his prosthetic hand and threw it at the guards. Gordon had a small thought at the back of his head as he let the rock go that might be a bad idea with how strong the wrist and hand was, and he definitely was thinking back to the hole in the brick wall he’d punched previously and…</p>
<p>“Oh…oh god,” Gordon said. He nearly threw up in his mouth at the sight. The guard was now missing a head, and his buddy and the lady had whipped around to stare at him. Gordon stared at his prosthetic hand. He had just thrown a rock hard and fast enough to decapitate someone. And there was blood <em>all</em> over that ground now. Oh Christ, that was disgusting. “Fuck.”</p>
<p>Gordon had to take cover as, of-course, the man started shooting at him. He did not think this one through. Okay, Gordon where the fuck to now?</p>
<p>The wooden fence? He couldn’t climb it. He wasn’t athletic enough. Oh god, think Gordon. Think. It was locked what was he going to—Gordon looked at his prosthetic hand. Great. Good. Let’s try punching the fence.</p>
<p>Gordon punched the fence near the lock. It broke open, but there were small slivers of wood stuck in his prosthetic now. He couldn’t feel them, but he could see them. Was that super bad? The prosthetic hadn’t broken from punching a brick wall, but if Black Mesa had taught him anything—sometimes life was super stupid.</p>
<p> Gordon pushed the fence open with his left hand and looked around at where he was at now. The backyard of the craft shop. Outdoor decorations with price stickers on them were neatly arranged.</p>
<p>Gordon heard footsteps heading towards him and he grabbed the first sizeable thing he could. A crystal ball from a very beautiful mermaid sculpture. He hefted it in his right hand and as soon as he was for sure, sure that was not some concerned citizen and by the faint glint of the black helmet he could see over the fence, the armed man—chucked the damn thing as hard as he could at the man.</p>
<p>Gordon missed, but at least only barely, which made him feel better as he hit the ground as gunfire shredded through the rest of the wood fence gate and into some of the sculptures. He glanced around him and found a couple of options. A lawn-flamingo and a delicate little colorful-spinny thing.</p>
<p>He chose the lawn-flamingo and held it like a bat. He stumbled to his feet and as the armed man entered the outdoor sculpture garden. He slammed the flamingo into the man’s face. It didn’t stun the man that well, but it did stop him from shooting Gordon then and there.</p>
<p>He grabbed the delicate spinny-thing and shoved the sharp end towards the man. It did not magically hit a vulnerable exposed area and the man batted it away with his gun. Right. That sucks. Gordon was going to die.</p>
<p>He balled up his prosthetic hand into a fist and as the no-longer stunned man took a step back to shoot him, Gordon dove forward and punched the man in the face. It worked pretty damn well and by the amount of cracking bones he heard, he was pretty sure the man wasn’t getting up.</p>
<p>Good job, Gordon Freeman, you just killed two people doing their jobs to rescue Benrey of all people…things…?</p>
<p>He was not a coward to admit he fled that garden as quick as he could, mostly worried someone in the neighboring apartment or any of the empty shops across the street would finally take notice and he’d have to explain to the police what just went down, but the bystander effect was in full play. If anyone had heard anything, they hadn’t deemed it big enough to act on.</p>
<p>The car was gone, as was the gray-suit lady. Gordon thought for a moment Benrey might be too, but he realized that no—he was still there, and inches away from a now flaming jeep. Would he die if Gordon left him there? Could Benrey die?</p>
<p>Fuck it. He’d already gone through this much work to keep Benrey from getting shot; he might as well finish the job and rescue him. Gordon tried very hard to ignore the dirt caking his legs from his tumble straight into the ground, or the blood on his prosthetic, or that one of his sandals had a pebble in it and that he’d just walked in the puddle of blood left by the decapitated guard because he hadn’t thought to look down, too busy looking at the raging inferno and sure to be car explosion. No, Gordon was not okay.</p>
<p>And this wasn’t okay.</p>
<p>And Benrey was still dead or unconscious or knocked out and…</p>
<p>Gordon groaned. He stooped down next to the alien and jabbed his finger into his shoulder. “Hey, Benrey, wake-up. Come on. You’re like, about to burn alive if you don’t.” No response. “Come on, man. Time to get up.”</p>
<p>Benrey lay still. Did he breathe? He didn’t want to do CPR on Benrey.</p>
<p>Gordon slapped Benrey’s cheek. He only realized slightly late, maybe he should have used his left hand. It did the trick—partially.</p>
<p>Benrey’s eyes opened. Blinked once. Then rolled back once more. He was out again.</p>
<p>“Okay, so he’s alive. That’s progress. Right. Gordon—we can carry four bags of groceries; this should be easy.”</p>
<p>Gordon found out lugging an unconscious man-shaped alien was not easy. He attempted at first to try fireman carrying Benrey, but he was not able to fluidly sling the alien over his shoulder. He had some strength—but not that much. And a strong prosthetic hand and wrist did little to improve his biceps and somehow, he’d lost muscle mass—probably from the lack of sleep—since Black Mesa.</p>
<p>Thus, he bridal carried Benrey. He felt embarrassed on both of their behalves. Mostly, because he had to partially set Benrey down while climbing the stairs, his forearms and biceps burning from the limp weight of a goddamn alien.</p>
<p>He managed to get into his apartment without anyone spotting him, which Gordon heaved a sigh in relief in and practically dropped Benrey onto the couch. It definitely was too small to be comfortable to lay on for long, but Gordon was mentally and physically exhausted. He walked over to his small, two-seater dining room table, sat down and groaned.</p>
<p>He eyed Benrey across the room.</p>
<p>“God. It was over. This was supposed to be over, man,” Gordon said to no-one.</p>
<p>The unconscious alien did not reply.</p>
<p>He dropped his head into his hands and groaned louder. “Fucking hell. What do I do?”</p>
<p>Gordon let himself brood for a few minutes, cursing god, cursing the world, cursing anything and everything for how he got himself back into this situation before he stopped his self-pitying and resolved for doing <em>something. </em>Okay, Benrey was probably hungry? Right. Or at least making him food—he ate human food right?—would give Gordon something to do.</p>
<p>Wait a moment, Gordon stopped himself. No, no. He wasn’t taking care of the alien. He was going to get rid of Benrey when the damn thing woke up.</p>
<p>He didn’t care about Benrey. He wasn’t Benrey’s friend.</p>
<p>Gordon side-eyed the unconscious form of Benrey on the couch. God, he could have at least put him down a little nicer.</p>
<p>No. No. Gordon don’t do this. This isn’t a puppy, this isn’t Joshua—this is the world-ending alien with ungodly powers like causing people to combust on the spot and spewing weird bubbles out of his mouth, this isn’t—</p>
<p>God, why did he save him? Why? Gordon ended up gritting his teeth, muttering swears under his breath and fixing them both a sandwich. Gordon wasn’t going to eat his, but he wanted to at least pretend he hadn’t just made the food for Benrey and he was just fixing himself food and happened to be nice.</p>
<p>He’ll give Benrey some food, make sure the damn alien isn’t about to go on a murder rampage or fall back over, and then shove him out.</p>
<p>But why was he back? And how did he happen to be right on Gordon’s street?</p>
<p>Did he know it was Gordon’s street? Gordon glanced over at Benrey as he absent-mindedly cut the sandwiches into triangles, too used to making food for Joshua.</p>
<p>If so, why him? This wasn’t revenge, right? He hopefully hadn’t just saved someone who was about to kill him.</p>
<p>Gordon sighed, put the plate with the sandwiches to the side and crossed his arms and stared at Benrey. Then he caught himself. He was staring at an unconscious man. There was nothing he was going to gain from just staring at him. Gordon just couldn’t help it. It was almost hard to believe.</p>
<p>That was Benrey. Benrey was <em>here</em>. Something like him didn’t seem like it could exist outside the horrors of Black Mesa.</p>
<p>He scanned Benrey’s clothes briefly, confirming that—yeah, he was wearing what he last wore when he was in Black Mesa. Which brings another thought to mind… Benrey died on Xen.</p>
<p>Yet here he was.</p>
<p>There was also the continuing silence and secrecy surrounding the blown-up Black Mesa site, and the numerous articles from some local journalists and some savvy bloggers who had noticed numerous military personnel still going out there. Something was still happening at the site, and something big had just happened a day ago. That’s what he’d been at the library to look for. Gordon just didn’t want the government to know he was a little curious about it.</p>
<p>Just in case that violated his NDA somehow.</p>
<p>And if he could put two-and-two together as an MIT grad, then that big thing was Benrey. And he was guessing Benrey had…revived…reformed…respawned? Respawned seemed the most fitting word, both conjuring Benrey’s odd ability to mess with technology reminding him of a glitching videogame and also of alien larva spawning forth from the earth in a disgusting and grotesque birth.</p>
<p>The nightmares about aliens hadn’t gone away. One more reason to add to no sleep.</p>
<p>So, Benrey had respawned, and killed plenty of people in the process if those weren’t fake photos or exaggerations. And the way he killed them involved them being nothing but skeletons after.</p>
<p>Gordon was starting to have a small clue to why there was suddenly lots of skulls and skeletons just lying around Black Mesa, yet they never found any living scientists in a research facility with hundreds of people.</p>
<p>Add to the list of questions about ‘Why?!’: “Why didn’t Benrey ever kill any of them?”</p>
<p>Gordon sighed, uncrossed his arms and tried to distract himself and not look at the alien on his couch. He cleaned up the kitchen, organized the remaining things he hadn’t packed up in his kitchen and decided to tackle the chore of throwing away things in his fridge he was definitely not going to use again before he moved out in a few days.</p>
<p>It eventually became enough of a chore his mind was completely occupied on weighing if the cookie dough that was freezer burnt and halfway open  and had been in his freezer for six months was still edible and if so, was it a good idea when he was startled by the most unholy cracking noises. Gordon glanced towards his living room and saw nothing.</p>
<p>Just his couch and TV, undisturbed.</p>
<p>Jesus, did he step on something. Gordon glanced at the ground and just shook his head. How the hell had that little plastic piece he’d stepped on caused that. These days he was always so quick to jump at the slightest sound and—</p>
<p>“Sup, Feetman.”</p>
<p>“Jesus fucking Christ!” Gordon hollered, dropping the cookie dough which hit the linoleum with a dull thud.</p>
<p>Standing behind him, because why else would Benrey approach him from any other angle, was Benrey. He was standing, eyes shadowed in the poorly lit kitchen with his helmet still on and his arms at his sides. That was another small bit that always unnerved Gordon who found himself gesturing when he spoke and fiddling with his hands when he didn’t—Benrey didn’t move his hands from his sides or change his rigid posture unless he was reclining or sitting. He either looked to be ‘chilling’ or had the posture of a military soldier.</p>
<p>Gordon turned to Benrey, closing the fridge and forgoing the cookie dough. “Okay, okay,” Gordon took a deep breath. “So, what are you—”</p>
<p>“Those for me?” Benrey ignored him entirely and gestured to the sandwiches.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but first off—rude, second—”</p>
<p>“Nice,” Benrey took the plate of sandwiches and walked back to the living room.</p>
<p>Gordon stared after him in a homogenous mixture of shock and annoyance that slowly dissolved into acceptance.</p>
<p>Yup. That was Benrey.</p>
<p>Was he in immediate danger from Benrey? Gordon guessed not and felt the knot in his shoulders that had formed when the alien appeared right behind him loosen. Instead he bent over, grabbed the cookie dough and shoved it back into his fridge.</p>
<p>Gordon decided now was the time for a pep talk for himself. “Okay, Gordon Freeman. You’re okay. You are still outside Black Mesa; you just happened to rescue the not-human security guard from some sketchy people and he’s in your apartment eating sandwiches. Nothing else. The world isn’t ending. Deep breath in…2…3…4…5.” Gordon sucked in a breath, held it for a few seconds, and then breathed out slowly. When he was done, he glanced over at Benrey.</p>
<p>The plate and the sandwiches were gone and Benrey was occupying himself by rifling through Gordon’s collection of PS3 games like he was examining stolen goods on the verge of being caught.</p>
<p>“So,” Gordon said, taking one more deep breath for an extra burst of confidence and reassurance. “Why are you here?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bonding Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short character bonding nice chapter. expect longer action chapter and one and a half dads dadding Joshua next.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Benrey looked at him and smiled, sharp teeth bared. He pulled out a crumpled-up piece of paper from his vest pocket and held it up triumphantly. It was a piece of junk-mail Gordon had grabbed from his mailbox on the way to work while heading to Black Mesa and tossed in his locker.</p><p>“Cuz you guys destroyed your passports, which was kind of weird. Not sure,” Benrey shrugged, and tilted his head. “Not sure why’d you do that.”</p><p>“We were trying to kill you,” Gordon said plainly. He got a blink from Benrey, slow and deliberate. The man straightened.</p><p>“Think you lost your head, Feetman,” Benrey reconsidered. “You lost your arm. Lost your head. Lost enough blood you couldn’t figure out who was bad. I was really trying to not attack you guys, I mean, the skeletons of all the people we killed were going ham, but I mean, I was cool with all of you.”</p><p>“Why—what?” Gordon questioned.</p><p>“Think Black Mesa’s haunted,” Benrey said. He pulled out Gordon’s copy of an old racing game. “Anyway, couldn’t find you all without passports,” Benrey tossed the racing game aside and yanked out a PS2 game buried in there. It was a kid’s game he had bought for Joshua was still getting used to the controller.  He tossed it back in its spot. “But when you were just, chilling in the locker room and talking to Dr. Coomer. Got this. From your locker.” Benrey gestured with the paper.</p><p>“That explains nothing,” Gordon said. “Why…” Gordon saw Benrey on the verge of just saying huh and reconsidered. “What do you mean find us?”</p><p>“Found you,” Benrey let the paper fall to the floor and Gordon just stared at him. Benrey went back to looking through his video games. “You don’t have many multiplayer games. You lonely? Little guy who gets home from work and spends all the time by himself. Sad.”</p><p>“No—I just, okay. You know what. Look, Benrey,” Gordon said, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to ignore the migraine.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Why come here?”</p><p>“Just said,” Benrey finished his browsing of Gordon’s games and moved onto his movie collection. “Only person’s address I had. You destroyed the passports, because you’re big dumb.”</p><p>“Why did you need our addresses?”</p><p>“Wanted to come visit my friends,” Benrey said. “We’re gonna hang out now. Just gotta find us a good game to play.”</p><p>“We’re not going to hang out. You are literally not welcome here. I don’t want you here,” Gordon said frustration building. He seized the copy of Harry Potter Benrey had chosen to open and look into and pulled it free of his grip. Benrey just looked at him, eyes blank and emotionless.</p><p>“Tough,” Benrey said. “You owe me one freebie hangout. You killed me. You also shot me a bunch, which kinda means you’re in the acquaintance zone until you’re nicer.”</p><p>“No—I’m not trying to be your friend. I was never your friend. We were never cool. I met you the day of the test, and you were pedantic about some new rule, that I’m starting to think you made up,” Gordon argued. “Look, I see now trying to kill you was pointless and…” Gordon didn’t want to say it. He really didn’t. He was being forced, that’s why he was saying it. “I’m sorry I killed you. I…” He missed Benrey to a degree? He felt bad he killed him with the way those gray eyes turned yellow as he died and looked at him with a level of betrayal?</p><p>Benrey was staring at him.</p><p>“Tommy missed you, and probably Dr. Coomer and Bubby, but they’re terrible with words. So, I can send them a message and you can go there or something,” Gordon offered.</p><p>“What about making it up to me that you killed me? How about…” Benrey found a new game. “Two rounds of uh…shit, no not this one. Where was that one, other one—that one that looked good,” Benrey went back to rifling through his games.</p><p>Gordon gave up on standing over Benrey and lecturing him. He sat beside the alien who was destroying his entire organization system for his video games. “Benrey, I think I made it up to you when I saved your ass, because you were about to be kidnapped or captured or something or arrested,” Gordon said, gesturing. “I don’t know. Thing is, I felt it was my personal responsibility to make sure you weren’t, because I…” Have guilt over killing you. “I…” Consider you a friend. “You, know. Never mind, I should have stayed out of it. Look, just…tell me where you want to go, I’ll text Coomer or Tommy and you can go hang out with them, okay?”</p><p>Benrey paused, his fingers stilling on the game. He glanced at Gordon and then let out a sigh, a gray orb floating out of his mouth. It slowly saturated to the color of green when it hit the ground. “Please. Don’t,” Benrey said quietly.</p><p>Gordon was a little taken aback. “Don’t what?” he asked.</p><p>“Send me away. Not yet. We don’t,” Benrey stopped messing with the games. His fingers busied themselves with digging into his carpet. “We don’t have to hang out, but just…let me get my bearings. Just…came back and I’m uh…weak and puny, like you.”</p><p>Gordon felt bad. He felt like a jerk. Which didn’t make sense, because Benrey was normally so infuriating, how could he look into those eyes and feel bad? Those very clearly not human eyes that were staring at him like he just kicked a puppy and then told that puppy it was ugly.</p><p>“Okay,” Gordon agreed. “You can stay here a bit. I’m—I’m moving in a few days, so maybe I can drop you off wherever when I do. Just…” Benrey stared at him. “Behave, I guess. Don’t kill anyone. Don’t be loud or whatever.”</p><p>Benrey continued staring at him, as if analyzing Gordon’s every minute facial expression as he too stared back at Benrey waiting for Benrey to crack and smile, and reveal this might have been a set up designed to cash in on Gordon’s secret soft-side or maybe Benrey to decide Gordon’s soft-side wasn’t good enough and leave and—</p><p>Benrey sang a beam of orbs right into his damn face.</p><p>“Calm down,” Benrey muttered. “I can see your anxiety.”</p><p>It did help Gordon feel better, but it didn’t mean he necessarily approved of Benrey just spitting on him with orbs. It did help Gordon take a deep breath and just drop his shoulders from where they’d been slowly rising to his ears.</p><p>Benrey glanced away, then back at him. “Cool. Can I play your PS3?”</p><p>Gordon decided sure; if it went wrong he'd blame it on the orbs.</p><p>A few dozen minutes later, Gordon was sitting on his couch with Benrey playing on his only controller, getting further in Metal Gear 4 than Gordon had even bothered. It only occurred to him then, to ask Benrey where the plate had gone so he could go toss it in the sink and give it a quick scrub.</p><p>“Benrey, where’s the plate?”</p><p>“What plate?”</p><p>“The plate I put the sandwiches on.”</p><p>Silence. Gordon glanced at Benrey. Benrey stared at the screen.</p><p>“I’ll cocoon only the sandwiches next time,” he muttered a little too defensively.</p><p>“Please don’t tell me that’s how you eat everything.”</p><p>“It’s easier,” Benrey said. “Then you don’t have to witness what happens to it.”</p><p>Gordon didn’t want to interpret what the fuck that meant. He did briefly. He decided the skeletons were as much as he was willing to think about.</p><p>“You have teeth and a tongue, right—why don’t you use that?” Gordon asked. “Otherwise, evolutionarily—why would you even have that?”</p><p>Benrey laughed. A soft, hardly menacing sound that was more musical than not. “I bite.”</p><p>Gordon considered it. He looked at Benrey's teeth and decided it might be semi-serious. He gestured at Benrey threateningly. “Do not bite me, or Joshua, who is coming over in a day, by the way,” Gordon said. </p><p>“What if it’s just a joke, and I bite you?” Benrey asked. “You want to feel my teeth, Gordon?” He turned his head to face Gordon, smoothly hitting pause and baring his teeth in a facsimile of a smile. More like an invitation for Gordon to stick his hand straight into Benrey’s mouth.</p><p>Gordon took it all the wrong ways, before he finally just said. “Please, never again ask me something that weird,” Gordon muttered. Benrey shrugged, resumed the game and went right back to playing.</p><p>“You asked about them. You clearly have an interest in my mouth,” Benrey said in a muttered undertone, that if Gordon hadn’t been listening, he would have missed. He turned his attention from the people dying on screen in-game to give Benrey a long scathing look.</p><p>Benrey didn’t even acknowledge it.</p><p>“I’m just a scientist,” Gordon defended. “And you’re clearly not human.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“So, I’m just wanting to confirm some rudimentary facts about how the fuck you exist,” Gordon said. “Because frankly, I don’t think anyone understands.”</p><p>Benrey seemed to tense, but it was hard to read in his posture. His only tell was the way his lips quirked down a moment in a frown and his tongue ran across his teeth, which Gordon only noticed, because he was staring at Benrey, not Benrey’s mouth. After a moment of mashing buttons, Benrey said,</p><p>“You should ask Tommy. Tommy was…Tommy yanno. Had part in observation.”</p><p>Gordon at this point had abandoned any pretense that he was watching the TV screen, his body was practically angled towards Benrey. Too invested. “Observation?”</p><p>Benrey didn’t answer. The silence was a little uncomfortable and Gordon became all to aware of the sound of guns in the game. It put him on edge, and he crossed his arms, his fingers brushing against his prosthetic as he did so.</p><p>“You were one of Black Mesa’s experiments,” Gordon said. “What…what were you—”</p><p>Benrey violently murdered someone on screen. “Stupid stuff. Just put me in a box. Observe. Take tests. Analyze. Tommy…Tommy was cool. Figured out that I meant shit when I communicated. Didn’t think it was stupid alien shit.”</p><p> Benrey was less human now. Not all of a sudden, but his form had shifted as he was speaking. His pupils no longer present, his words not quite inflected right. His presence felt odd, as if sitting next to a void of blank space that shouldn’t exist—a feeling like sitting next to a hole that plummeted into nothingness. A feeling of one’s stomach dropping just being near it.</p><p>“Yeah,” Gordon said quietly. “I should apologize to Tommy some time to; he’s a pretty damn genius scientist, but I kept forgetting that.”</p><p>Benrey came crashing down all at once present again, his form suddenly feeling more solid next to Gordon on the couch. “Yeah, Tommy’s great. He, he understands what it’s like to…to talk shit in a way other people don’t get.” His fingers weren’t gripping the controller so tight anymore and Gordon leaned back in the couch, blocking out the sound of the game mentally as he just tried to relax.</p><p>“Yeah? I could ask him for a color chart or something,” Gordon said.</p><p>Beside him Benrey snorted. “Doesn’t work that easy. Not all my colors…work. Not all your stupid human eyes see right. So, you gotta feel the color.”</p><p>“Still might help,” Gordon said. “I mean, I don’t want to like miss what you meant or something.”</p><p>This time the laughter wasn’t as musical, but still no less happy sounding. Just louder and more from the back of Benrey’s throat. “That’s pretty gay, Gordon.”</p><p>“Fine, I take it back then,” Gordon muttered. “I’ll just assume all your orbs mean you’re mocking me in your home-language.”</p><p>“Yeah, that works,” Benrey said.</p><p>Gordon sighed and leaned his head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. He was in a mixed spot. He had been expecting this to be pretty damn inconvenient. He was expecting to be mentally protesting Benrey’s presence, but it felt kind of nice to have a distraction from his own normal thoughts or the drifting around from spot to spot in his apartment, feeling like a ghost among the living.</p><p>Someone else being there felt somewhat comforting, but somewhat uncomforting whenever Benrey’s eyes drifted to him. Being seen felt terrible right now.</p><p>He let that thought go and decided to focus on something else. He needed to finish packing up his bedroom, his living room TV area and his kitchen. He’d been procrastinating on it a lot. He always got some things packed up right after Joshua left, feeling more motivated, but then would let the rest go as he went back to drifting.</p><p>Should he sell the couch? He wouldn’t need it until he got a new apartment, and his car wasn’t big enough to haul it into. He could put it on Craigslist.</p><p>But then he’d have to deal with strangers. Who knew who weirdos would answer the ad? Maybe those weirdos hunting Benrey would answer it.</p><p>Who were they?</p><p>“I wonder who was trying to capture you?” Gordon voiced aloud.</p><p>“The US Government,” Benrey said.</p><p>He didn't elaborate even as Gordon left a considerable pause. Instead the click of buttons and dialogue from the games continued.</p><p>“Serious?” Gordon asked, turning his head slightly to look at Benrey.</p><p>Benrey shrugged. He died in game and let the controller drop, turning to meet Gordon’s eyes. </p><p>Gordon went back to staring at the ceiling. “Think they might have given up from one failed encounter?” Gordon asked.</p><p>“Nah.”</p><p>“Damn.”</p><p>Gordon wasn’t a stranger to suspecting the US Government wanted something from him other than the NDA, but now he realized he might have painted a big red target on his back. “So, uh…got any plans for when they come back? We could get you ear plugs for whatever that thing they use on you does? I…I guess maybe I shouldn’t text Dr. Coomer and Tommy that…oh…shit,” Gordon realized the extent to what harboring an alien could hinder his every movement now. “Well, I’m fucked, aren’t I?”</p><p>“S’okay,” Benrey said and reached over and patted Gordon’s hand. “We can always…uh…kill the US Government?”</p><p>“No, no—that wasn’t what I was worried about. I don’t think I want to kill anymore people, to be honest,” Gordon said. “I kind of feel it was a bad decision to kill people now that I have to live with it.”</p><p>He didn’t look at Benrey, but he felt the judgmental stare of, ‘not sure why killing the US Government is anything to lose sleep over, but okay.’</p><p>“Do you think if I text in code, they’ll understand. I can uh…say…I got a new friend?”</p><p>“You got a boyfriend.”</p><p>“Yeah that could—no!” Gordon shot Benrey a look and didn’t miss the grin. “No. I’m not texting that.”</p><p>“Shame. US Government will just think you’re gay. Scared of the US Government knowing you like penis?”</p><p>“Yeah, don’t want them to know that,” Gordon said with a roll of his eyes. “No, I can just say…well no. I don’t know. Maybe the US Government already knows. And we’re about to be raided.”</p><p>“Then just send them the text. Won’t change anything,” Benrey said. He resumed playing. Gordon shot him a look, but it was lost on Benrey who was staring at the screen. </p><p>Gordon stood up to end the conversation and went to his room where he knew his Blackberry was laying. He grabbed it with is left hand and slid out the keyboard to text them. Bubby still refused to stop using Dr. Coomer’s phone, so it was a mixed bag on who was going to get the message. “old friend came over” Gordon texted to Coomer’s phone and then Tommy.</p><p>
  <em>Tommy: “is it Benrey?”</em>
</p><p>Well fuck.</p><p>
  <em>Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “tell Benrey he owes me 5 dollars”</em>
</p><p>Why? Did they not constantly worry the US Government was spying on their communications? Like maybe Gordon was an outlier, but that NYTimes article four years back worried him—doesn’t matter that Bush said the NSA stopped monitoring the calls and messages of everyone; at this point they might have a warrant considering the NDA.</p><p>
  <em>To Tommy: “yeah. He’s alive.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “ok”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy: “that’s great! Tell him I said hi! You should also come and visit! You still have my address? Just warn me. I’ll have to leash Sunkist. She doesn’t like Benrey still </em>
  <em>☹”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “we should rob a bank now. we have one more person who can’t die. it’s a good time as any.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Tommy: “okay”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “if you say no, just know that i’ll consider you less of a person”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “no”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “you’re a bitch, Gordon Freeman, just so you know. i didnr want it to come to this. we may just have to rob the bank without you”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “give the phone to Benrey”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “no”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dr. Coomer/Bubby: “bitch”</em>
</p><p>Gordon set his phone down and sighed. He wasn’t sure Dr. Coomer would have been any better. Last time Bubby had tried to explain to him the exact way they rob the bank and assured Gordon they had a gun for him that did not involved attaching it to his hand via a potion. Compared to that, this time his convincing lacked the dedication, that made Gordon think maybe he was finally giving up on the idea.</p><p>“I told them,” Gordon told Benrey over his shoulder. He didn’t grace Gordon with a response.</p><p>Gordon cast a look around the apartment. He was driving over to Marla’s tomorrow to pick-up Joshua for the weekend before he moved the day after. He’d best at least make sure his apartment was ready to move, and also Joshua ready. He had been doing pretty decent on chores, now was a good time to resume them. He glanced over at Benrey and absently smiled. He was sure Benrey would be distracted for the time being.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Nightmares of Old</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for a filler chapter, I'm a little unsure of where to take this story. ;-;. I have ideas for an imposter AU and a creepypasta AU and a they met earlier AU--but this one is...dead on arrival. We'll see. It's more just a character exploration for Benrey and Gordon to slow burn at this point.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And he had. It was nearing 10 p.m. and Gordon had nearly forgotten Benrey existed. His mind was focused on completing the chores, and nothing else so when he finally stood up straight from cleaning grime that’d built up under the kitchen counters and cracked his back, he’d been mildly jump-scared by Benrey sitting on his couch still, gripping the controller, his eyes reflecting the light of the TV. Gordon leaned on his now spotless counters and watched Benrey for a moment as his fingers tapped the controller.</p><p>It was somewhat odd. Being out of Black Mesa and all. Just…Benrey looked human. And neither of them were covered in blood and alien goo and various other chemicals. The guard uniform was the most out of place thing. Gordon’s home, even stripped as it was now with everything in boxes, was a comfy place with no rhyme or reason to the style and seeing Benrey’s still likely blood-stained guard uniform next to the cat throw blanket Marla had bought when they were together was like seeing an elementary school teacher in the bar next to you.</p><p>“You’re staring at me again,” Benrey said.</p><p>Gordon stopped. He threw his brush he’d been using for scrubbing in the plastic bin his other cleaning supplies were in. “Do you have a change of clothes?”</p><p>“Why do you want me out of these ones?”</p><p>“Because they’re probably covered in…alien gunk. And I’d like some of my security deposit back. God knows I threw the HEV suit into the Chuck E. Cheese dumpster once I was able to get it unscrewed.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t…shouldn’t treat company property like that,” Benrey retorted. He was mostly focused on the game it seemed like, only pausing to bicker with Gordon when he wasn’t in danger of dying. Not that he was sure death ever phased Benrey, real or in a game.</p><p>Gordon brushed it off. “Look, like, I’m also trying…to be nice,” Gordon said slowly. “I don’t know man. You’re not human, so I guess it maybe might not occur to you but being in the same clothes for weeks on end is kind of gross.”</p><p>“Yeah. Gordon Stinkman,” Benrey muttered.</p><p>“I have been cleaning for the past few hours. If I’m sweating now…” Gordon bit out, before realizing he was falling for it. Benrey was looking to argue. “Okay. Okay. How about this. You choose the clothes. I will let you, on one condition, go rummaging through my closet and drawers.”</p><p>“Kinky.”</p><p>“So long as you do not fuck with all my stuff. Go pick yourself out a new outfit so I can go throw the guard uniform out into the dumpster. So, I’m not like tracking alien DNA all over my living room,” Gordon said. Benrey gave him a long, long look. Those eyes should not be glowing. Turns out he is not reflecting TV light; the man’s eyes just glow in the dark. Terrifying.</p><p>“Why you hate the uniform so much?” Gordon knew why he hated it, but this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. <em>Gee, Benrey, I’m fucking terrified of you to some degree, and yet it seems like we’re both trying to put this in the past, so…</em></p><p>“Let’s forget it then,” Gordon said. “I don’t know. I was just thinking you’d also not to carry around the Black Mesa look and…be comfy?” He was fixing himself a good ole PB&amp;J now and assembled one for Benrey. He wanted to see if Benrey was suspicious but focused on the bread as his hands started to sweat a little.</p><p>His remaining food left not packed away or thrown out was bread, peanut butter, some old jam, a bag of stale chips, and a lot of spices he should probably pack away now, and some juice pouches and graham crackers for Joshua. He decided now would be a good time to do that, because Benrey was staring at him questioningly, and he did not want to have the Black Mesa discussion right now.</p><p>“You uh…you got bad feelings about my guard suit,” Benrey said. The TV’s sound cut off. There was silence other than the sound of Gordon tossing spices into a plastic bin he found he hadn’t designated for something else. When Gordon didn’t answer him, Benrey filled the silence. “Glad you threw out the HEV suit. It was ugly.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. I kind of wanted to forget Black Mesa.”</p><p>“Forget me?”</p><p>“How could I?” Gordon asked with a snort. He didn’t realize Benrey’s voice sounded much closer until he plopped himself down on the freshly cleaned counters to stare at Gordon. Gordon glanced up at him and sighed. “Going to bug me now? Done playing games?”</p><p>“Dunno. Why don’t you feed me, Gordon?”</p><p>“Help yourself to a sandwich man. This time not the plate.”</p><p>“I can break bones with my teeth,” Benrey decided to tell him.</p><p>“That’s great, Benrey,” Gordon pointedly went back to shoving spices into the bin. Benrey hummed out of tune, eying the sandwiches, then looked back to Gordon.</p><p>“I’m going to go raid your closet. Find something not bad. Something not nerd. Got gamer clothes?” Benrey decided. He hopped off the counter without waiting for Gordon’s answer and went to Gordon’s room. Gordon sighed. He’d never done well with roommates, but this was two and a half days at most.</p><p>Gordon threw out the spices he couldn’t fit in the bin, adding to the five trash bags he’d need to take out tomorrow, and had a thought. For him, Benrey’s guard suit was just one of the many images implanted in his mind when he thought about Black Mesa and ‘danger’ and ‘imminent death.’ He’d been the one to deal the killing blows on Benrey.</p><p>Did he see the HEV suit in his nightmares?</p><p>Did Benrey dream? Did Benrey sleep?</p><p>Did Black Mesa really traumatize all of them? Even Benrey? <em>He’s not human.</em> Gordon’s brain argued. <em>But he’s human enough</em>. He didn’t have much more time to think over if he should be addressing this with Benrey when the man reappeared, having picked out clothes. Gordon owned quite a number of sweats and sweatshirts. A good half of them still with his college logo on them. It was not surprising then, that somehow Benrey chose a faded hoodie Gordon should probably have thrown out or donated by now that hadn’t fit him since Freshman year and a pair of sweats cinched tightly at the waist. He was holding his guard uniform in one hand.</p><p>The hood was pulled up over Benrey’s head, but for the first time, Gordon could see the black hair Benrey had. It hung limply an inch down his forehead, no longer trapped under the helmet and despite the hat hair, wasn’t caked in grease.</p><p>He looked more human now, except when Benrey stood in the dark doorway of his room his eyes glowed. Gray. Just soft gray lights peering at him. He also looked far less threatening and capable of murder.</p><p>Which is why Benrey had to ruin it, by setting his own guard clothes on fire.</p><p>“Why! No!” Gordon immediately rushed forward. “You’re going to set off the fire alarm!”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Benrey said, unbothered by the flames near his hands as the clothes burned. His helmet was the only thing missing from the now burning set of clothes, and as Gordon quickly rushed to turn off his fire alarm before every resident in the building was rudely awoken or stirred from their nightly activities, Benrey let the clothes fall to the floor. Thank god for whatever fucking combustion Benrey caused, because it didn’t spread, and Gordon was standing breathless with the batteries of his fire alarm in one hand and clutching his chest with the other.</p><p>“You’re going to give me a heart attack. You can’t just do that out here.”</p><p>Benrey shrugged. He toed the pile of ashes now sitting on the carpet as the flame went out with socked feet. “You should get to sleep. You have…uh…to pick up your uh…kid, right? Tomorrow?”</p><p>“I do,” Gordon said. He sighed and put the batteries down on the counter. “I only have the one bed and Joshua’s. I mean—neither of us are going to fit in Josh’s room. I—”</p><p>“Don’t need sleep,” Benrey said. He went back to the couch, grabbing the game controller.</p><p>“You sure?” Gordon said. “I mean. Don’t you need rest after all that’s happened?”</p><p>“Don’t need sleep.”</p><p>“Okay. Well, if that changes. You can sleep on the couch, though honestly, it’s kind of hard, so maybe the floor will be comfortable. I can get you a blanket or you can use that cat throw blanket or—”</p><p>“Go to sleep. Or else you’ll be all grouchy and your uh…kid will not like you,” Benrey muttered. He handwaved Gordon who was offended on the behalf of himself and Joshua. Joshua would never, and Gordon wouldn’t let a lack of sleep get in the way. Regardless, he ate a sandwich and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, occasionally sparing peeks out to see what Benrey was doing.</p><p>He was back with the controller in his hand, but his eyes were unmoving. Blankly staring at the television, his body perfectly still. Gordon sighed and dried his face off. Whatever. He was tired, and he’d have to explain to Joshua that this was dad’s work friend who hopefully would not end up scaring Joshua or worse, be too interesting for Joshua. It’d be like the racoon in the alley incident all over again.</p><p>…</p><p>Gordon had a nightmare. He usually did after Black Mesa. Waking up to the images of Peeper Puppies tearing into his flesh or maybe the head-hugging crabs eating his skull or admittedly, Benrey looming over them all with sharp teeth bared and sweet voice swirling around an alien chamber with skeletons clattering.</p><p>This time, it was combining his normal every day worries he was going to be a terrible parent for Joshua and the fear that still crept through his veins when he thought of Benrey and Black Mesa. He was in Black Mesa’s halls, alone. Yet, he could hear Joshua up ahead crying.</p><p>Why was Joshua there? He had to get Joshua out. It wasn’t safe. There were aliens, and monsters, and military and Benrey. Gordon tore down the hallway that seemed so long, so steep now. His HEV suit felt like it made it impossible to move fast enough and Joshua’s cries only got louder.</p><p>“Joshua!” Gordon shouted, his desperation growing. But it felt like his feet were sticking to the ground. He was failing. He wasn’t going to save him. It was his fault. And the dream twisted, and this time they were in the final chamber.</p><p>This time he didn’t save Tommy before the skeletons overtook him. This time Dr. Coomer fell into a pit of green slime and never resurfaced. This time Bubby died by the torrent of gunfire. And it was only him and Benrey, and Gordon couldn’t save anyone.</p><p>He woke up sobbing, gripping his comforter with his back soaked in sweat and his eyes still closed. He could hear his air conditioning running, could smell the lavender scent of the air-freshener he specifically bought to feel calmer. He could hear a car pass outside, and he finally opened his eyes and rubbed them. A dream, Gordon.</p><p>Black Mesa’s gone. He checked his phone for the time, and saw it was only 5 a.m. Less than six hours of sleep.</p><p>Gordon rubbed his eyes and looked around his room, struggling to see in the dark. Something was near his doorway. A figure sat on the ground in it.</p><p>“Benrey?” Gordon questioned.</p><p>“Yeah?” the figure responded.</p><p>Gordon was thankful Benrey’s eyes were closed, or else he might have freaked out over seeing glowing eyes after that dream, but as it was, it was serene. His breathing had calmed, and his irrational tears had finally stopped, and he wiped at the drying tracks of them on his cheeks.</p><p>“Whatcha doing there?” Gordon questioned.</p><p>Benrey didn’t respond, but he saw him shift.</p><p>“Checking in on me?” Gordon wondered. He doubted it. Benrey didn’t…well, Gordon didn’t know. He wanted to say Benrey didn’t care. Benrey just loved annoying them all. But Benrey had cared about Tommy. And Benrey…</p><p>No comment from Benrey. Gordon sighed. He stared at the figure sitting in his doorway. Benrey was facing away from him, his head leaned against the door frame.  Gordon lay back down. In a way it felt nice someone else was in the apartment. He always kept Joshua’s door closed at night, especially with the nightmares. He didn’t want Joshua to hear him. Benrey sat in his doorway made him feel like if something bust in, at least they’d have to contend with the deadliest cryptid Gordon had ever met.</p><p>Strangely, Gordon didn’t feel fear of Benrey now. The Benrey in his nightmares was always large and imposing and dangerous. The backdrop of Black Mesa and the guard uniform and the immediate threat made him all the more terrifying.</p><p>The Benrey he’d had to save and lug up his apartment stairs and who was now dressed in his old ratty MIT clothes was not that Benrey. They were the same, and as Benrey would probably be happy to show and tell him, he could very much do all the things he did before.</p><p>Just, for the moment, Gordon thought. He strangely felt safe enough to sleep. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? He could lose another arm. Gordon did feel a small jolt of fear at that and he glanced over at Benrey. No, not likely. Not again. Gordon closed his eyes and went back to sleep.</p><p>…</p><p>When he woke up again it was to his phone alarm blaring. He tapped it off, and sat up, his eyes going to his doorway. No Benrey. Fair enough. Gordon got dressed quickly and brushed his teeth and hair, forcing himself to wake up despite the grogginess overtaking him.</p><p>He was nearly ready to leave when he finally found Benrey, crouched in the corner of the apartment in the shadows, eyes closed.</p><p>“Benrey?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“You…uh…okay there?” Gordon questioned.</p><p>“Just uh…just…” Benrey muttered. “Brain hurts. I’ll…I’ll um…”</p><p>Gordon put a hand on Benrey’s shoulder, but he moved away. His eyes opened. Yellow glowing eyes stared at him. Gordon gently retracted his hand and knelt down next to Benrey. Benrey eyed him at first but closed his eyes again.</p><p>“Too loud out here,” Benrey said.</p><p>“You uh…is this the first time you’ve been outside Black Mesa?” Gordon said, resting his hands on his own knees.</p><p>“…no,” Benrey muttered. “But you don’t have a good brain either.”</p><p>That was true. “You know, I used to get panic attacks in my college days,” Gordon said, settling to sit cross-legged. “I don’t know what you’re going through, but it’s not—”</p><p>“Not like you,” Benrey muttered. “I’m not human.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, you act and look it well enough,” Gordon retorted.</p><p>Benrey stared at him. After a moment he hesitantly reached a hand towards Gordon, then his other. At first, Gordon did feel a small jolt of fear. Yellow shadowed eyes. Danger. Danger! But before his fight or flight kicked in Benrey was hugging him and Gordon was taken aback.</p><p>He hugged Benrey hesitantly and he felt…odd. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and Benrey felt…he felt strange. Like if you hugged a TV or computer—this faint buzz of electricity under him and static clinging to Gordon’s arms—or maybe that was anxiety—and rather than a human warmth, he was tepid. The heat was there, just not…human.</p><p>Benrey pushed his head into Gordon’s shoulder and Gordon glanced at him.</p><p>“First time in…17 years,” Benrey muttered.</p><p>“Jesus. Yeah, no, that’d be reason to sit in the corner and have an existential crisis,” Gordon said. “How long were you…on Earth before that?” Gordon’s curiosity took over as he sat on the floor with Benrey clutching to him.</p><p>“…dunno,” Benrey muttered.</p><p>“Have you been on Earth your whole life?”</p><p>“…maybe.”</p><p>“How old are you?”</p><p>“…dunno.”</p><p>No Benrey back story today, Gordon humored. He sighed and pat Benrey’s back. Benrey’s eyes closed.</p><p>“Think I’m…twenty-nine or thirty. Left on Earth. Uh…just…left…alone.”</p><p>“Parents?”</p><p>“Alone.”</p><p>Jesus. He had no idea how alien life worked, but he felt it had to be universal concept people looked after their kids or felt some inclination too. Well, no. There were sea turtles. Just…for intelligent creatures it seemed cruel. Benrey was clearly not the definition of raised well. Gordon did quick math. “So…you were…a kid when you ended up in Black Mesa…?”</p><p>“No talk,” Benrey cut him off.</p><p>“Okay,” Gordon said. It didn’t redeem Benrey of murdering dozens of scientists in cold blood, but it made sense why he had no love for anyone at Black Mesa enough to just kill on sight. So why spare them? They were part of the same Black Mesa. But Benrey was done talking and hugging apparently. Gordon hadn’t even felt him get up. Just one moment there, next standing across the room looking at the pile of garbage.</p><p>“You should probably throw this out. Bad for uh…kids.”</p><p>“You going to be okay?” Gordon questioned as he stood up.</p><p>“Same as you,” Benrey muttered.</p><p>Gordon wasn’t sure how to take that. He was fine. Great even. Not at all troubled. “Yeah. Want to help me take care of it?”</p><p>…</p><p>They took out the garbage, Gordon lending Benrey a pair of flip-flops. After that, Gordon realized he really needed to get a move on to go pick up Joshua. It took a moment to figure out what to do about Benrey coming too, before he just decided to roll with it and see what happens.</p><p>He could just say Benrey was a coworker who had fallen on rough times. Which was true. And was crashing with Gordon. Which was also true. Benrey sat in the passenger seat of his truck staring out the window like a forlorn man heading to his death.</p><p>Gordon tried not to notice that, he really did, but whenever he was a stop light, he couldn’t help but watch Benrey. It was turning into a nasty habit, where his eyes kept drifting to Benrey. Just…Gordon was expecting him to vanish or go…turn into some weird monster again. Some habits died hard, and in Black Mesa Benrey had a habit of vanishing or suddenly pulling out a “passport” and unloading it without hesitation the moment Gordon took his eyes off him.</p><p>Now. Now Benrey seemed…too real.</p><p>Gordon was caught staring again.</p><p>“You really can’t…can’t get enough of me.”</p><p>“Sorry man. Just—old habits,” Gordon defended. He looked at the road, but there wasn’t much. They were at a stop light and it seemed to be taking longer than he wanted it to change.</p><p>“Habits? You stare at me a lot in Black Mesa?” Benrey seemed amused.</p><p>“Yeah. You had a habit of going bonkers with a gun or vanishing entirely.”</p><p>“Was uh…nervous.” Benrey muttered. He pulled on the string of the hoodie absently, his eyes going to the window. Gordon tried not to keep watching, but it was interesting. Benrey’s helmet was like a mask, shading his eyes, and now he could see the minute expressions that were always shielded. The way Benrey’s brow’s scrunched, his eyes creased. “Scouting ahead. Killing things for you guys.”</p><p>“You were what?” Gordon was taken aback.</p><p>“Trying to help,” Benrey said. “First just helping Tommy. But then he uh…he uh made friends with you guys. Then recognized—then felt sorry for you. So, helped you all.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you just tell us that?” Gordon questioned. He was staring at the traffic in front of him incredulously.</p><p>“I told Bubby…and Tommy. But uh…knew Dr. Coomer would forget and you…you wouldn’t trust me.”</p><p>“Well, that did a lot of good. You and Bubby tried murdering me,” Gordon muttered. It was still a sore spot.</p><p>“Was hoping they’d just…knock you out. Drag you off.”</p><p>“Why’d you want me gone?” Gordon questioned. “It’s really been a real—”</p><p>Benrey cut him off with a quick muttered comment of: “Knew uh…Tommy’s dad would want you to kill me.”</p><p>“Why—how did you know that?”</p><p>“…” Benrey was quiet again. “Forget it. Just…bad idea. Sorry.”</p><p>“No, no—” Gordon raised one hand to gesture annoyed, before resting it on the steering wheel again. “You all clearly know more than I did about how this whole resonance cascade went down. I can’t exactly question what the fuck was going on with Tommy’s dad—he’s another issue entirely. But you—”</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>“You—why do you—how do you--?” Gordon gave up. He tapped on the steering wheel and sighed. “I’m not going to get answers asking you like this, am I?” Gordon decided. He glanced over at Benrey and saw he’d made the other man cagey. He was pressed against the passenger door, leaning away from Gordon. His head turned entirely towards the window; he had pulled his hoodie up more.</p><p>“No,” Benrey said.</p><p>“Fair enough. Change of topic then. How’re you liking the outside of Black Mesa?” Gordon questioned.</p><p>“It’s…nice. Too busy.”</p><p>“Lot of people,” Gordon muttered.</p><p>“Too many.”</p><p>“Well, when we head…well…I guess,” he felt Benrey’s eyes drift to him. “No. I can’t take you to my hometown, but not all cities are this bad. I think Tommy lives near the outskirts, so it isn’t as bad.” Benrey’s went back to looking out the window. “Look, Benrey, I can’t exactly—I’m not going to explain you to my parents. Even just as a coworker crashing. There isn’t enough bedrooms, and I don’t want to put that burden on them.”</p><p>Benrey didn’t answer, staring pointedly out the window. Gordon sighed. “Tommy and you are friends—why do you seem so put off about me leaving you at Tommy’s?”</p><p>“…Sunkist…his dad…”</p><p>“I’m sure Sunkist won’t hurt you,” Gordon placated.</p><p>“You don’t know that.”</p><p>“I’m sure Tommy won’t let Sunkist hurt you.”</p><p>“Sunkist is unstoppable.”</p><p>“Benrey.”</p><p>“Gordon.”</p><p>Gordon shot him a look and found Benrey not even looking at him. He made one last turn and glanced around the street before pulling into the parking lot for Marla’s. He parked the car and turned in earnest to Benrey. “Do you want to wait here or…?”</p><p>Benrey unbuckled his seat belt, and Gordon nodded. He got out of the car, locked it behind the both of them and went to her apartment. Part of him was happy to see Joshua, the other part of him was waiting for the questions from Marla about who the fuck was the weird guy and her phone call later where she asked why he hadn’t warned her about him. Benrey followed behind him without comment, his hands in his pockets and his head down.</p><p>Marla did not question Benrey’s existence. Just a quick glance to him, a glance to Gordon and then she handed over Joshua’s backpack. “Friend of yours?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“About time for one of those. Make sure Joshua brushes his teeth, I’ve caught him avoiding it. Also, good luck on your move. I’d chat longer but Rosalie’s loading up a movie I’ve been wanting to see but…too violent for Joshua.” She gently guided Joshua out, who was bouncing with excitement and looked to have downed four cans of soda possibly or was about to blast off.</p><p>And with that, Joshua was tugging at his arm and going on about his new favorite idea—cowboys in space. “And so, they’d shoot lasers instead of guns and it’d be like Star Wars! Because Auntie Rosalie rented Star Wars and I like the laser guns!”</p><p>Gordon took a deep breath, eyed Benrey and then just smiled. “Sounds great, Josh. Joshua, this is Benrey. Benrey, this is Joshua.”</p><p>Joshua, as he tended to do, went absolutely shy the moment he saw Benrey, ducking behind Gordon a little. Benrey just looked at the child with a blank expression. “He looks like you when you were a kid,” Benrey stated.</p><p>“Nah, his hairs darker—he has Marla’s. Wait—how do you know how—” Benrey cut him off, waving a small hand at Joshua.</p><p>“Space cowboys? Sounds cool.”</p><p>Joshua’s excitement about his idea won over. “Mhm! And then they can fight space-monsters like that big slimy thingy in the Star Wars movie that had weird snake eyes!” Gordon ended up guiding both of them back to the car, with Benrey being the attentive ear to Joshua’s very charged imagination. Gordon has no idea how he was as a kid, it was all a little foggy—but Joshua, Joshua’s head was rooted in stories. At all times. And he was intent on sharing those stories at all costs.</p><p>Gordon loved him but he couldn’t keep up with him. Too bad for him, Benrey could. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning: disturbing dreams ahead, but then soft after.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the first time since 2017 I’m going back to my hometown, a town I fought to leave.</p>
<p>Thanks, subconscious for deciding that this was the year from fanfic I’m writing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>When they got back to Gordon’s apartment, Gordon was already sure it was the raccoon in the alley all over again. Joshua <em>loved</em> Benrey. Benrey was someone new and utterly interested in every word Joshua said, and soon he was called Benrey <em>and</em> Uncle Benny.</p>
<p>Gordon was stuck between wanting to intervene and being utterly fascinated. Joshua had a hard time with strangers, but well…with how <em>strange</em> Benrey was he wasn’t just…as off-putting as strangers were. It didn’t help that Benrey showed Joshua sweet voice.</p>
<p>It was too late. Benrey made space lasers real and was now entertaining Joshua by “shooting” sweet voice “laser beams” at Gordon.  Gordon was only dealing with this, because Joshua was laughing louder than he had in awhile.</p>
<p>Also…Benrey looked…<em>happier.</em> It seemed like the tension between them both was eased by Joshua. Hey, maybe Benrey was a natural dad.</p>
<p>“Dad looks so grumpy.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t know he ever looked different,” Benrey mocked.</p>
<p>“If I had my nerf-gun unpacked I’d shoot you with it,” Gordon muttered.</p>
<p>“Can we unpack them?” Joshua begged. “Please, please!”</p>
<p>“No. It’ll have to wait until another time,” Gordon said, and caught Benrey rolling his eyes. Benrey and Joshua had been playing Joshua’s game of Aliens vs. Cowboys. They decided the alien must be the hulking shape of Gordon trying not to get a sore back packing up the last of Joshua’s toys on the ground.</p>
<p>Trust Benrey, the literal alien, to be more cowboy than Gordon. Gordon wasn’t jealous or anything. His son just thought he was lame. That’s cool. Totally cool. Yeah. Fine. He glanced over at Benrey who just blew a bubble at him. Gordon glared.</p>
<p>He was cool too, why was Benrey so much cooler to his son? Agh, focus. Just finish up the box.</p>
<p>Benrey whispered something to Joshua, and Gordon glanced over his shoulder to see Joshua whisper something back.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m going to go back to the living room. Leave you to pack. Not at all going to launch a sneak attack,” Benrey drawled out, taking a long, dramatic step towards the living room. Gordon just eyed him suspiciously and missed the real danger. His son grabbed the box of stuff animals and overturned it on his head. His own flesh and blood betraying him.</p>
<p>“We’ve got the alien!” Joshua cried out, pressing the box down on top of Gordon’s head.</p>
<p>“Gotta laser him a few more times to make sure he stays down,” Benrey said, and Gordon felt the mist-like sweet voice slap his leg. He groaned and pushed against the box.</p>
<p>“I need back-up! Alien’s resisting!” Joshua cried out.</p>
<p>Benrey leaned on-top of the box, and Gordon was trapped effectively. Not really, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t just end up slamming his prosthetic hand through the cardboard and half-punch Benrey in the face. Instead he just sighed and gave up. “I’m defeated.”</p>
<p>“We got ‘im!” Joshua cheered.</p>
<p>“Good job, little bro!” Benrey praised.</p>
<p>“Good job, Joshua. Are you going to help me put all this back?” Gordon said, pulling the box off himself. Benrey let him, smirking down at Gordon as he pushed his hair out of his face and Joshua stared at the stuff animals contemplatively.</p>
<p>“Winners don’t help with that,” Benrey said.</p>
<p>“No—that’s not—”</p>
<p>“Yeah!” Joshua decided.</p>
<p>Gordon shot Benrey a look, and just got a cheeky smile. Regardless, Benrey helped him pick up the stuff animals, and Joshua seeing Benrey help, helped as well. It was nice. It’d been a while since he could have a domestic moment with someone else.</p>
<p>People were sometimes put off by the fact he had a kid. They saw a young successful scientist, and then the sight of a kid was sometimes an immediate pass. It was just nice for someone to see Joshua as the wonderful, if not a little rowdy and imaginative, kid he was.</p>
<p>“Dad, when I get older can I do mouth lasers too?” Joshua asked as he kept one of the stuff animals, Mr. Crocodile, which Gordon was wondering if he was going to end up wanting unpacked. Joshua seeing Mr. Crocodile in his hand motioned for it and Gordon passed it over. </p>
<p>“No—”</p>
<p>“If you drink lots of soda…”</p>
<p>“You’ll get cavities. It’s a Benrey only thing,” Gordon cut Benrey off.</p>
<p>Joshua still didn’t look sure, looking to Benrey who just nodded and did a thumbs up. Despite Benrey’s attempted corruption of Joshua, he hadn’t succeeded yet and Joshua yawned. He was worn out now, after hours of attacking poor Gordon. “Can we watch a movie?” Joshua asked.</p>
<p>“Sure. Which one?” Gordon asked. He could use a break too and a mini-nap while he dozed slightly off while Joshua watched the movie. Joshua, like he always did with new things he liked, turned to the source.</p>
<p>“What movie do you like, Uncle Benrey?”</p>
<p>“Cars,” Benrey decided and Joshua perked up.</p>
<p>“Cars!”</p>
<p>Gordon sighed, pulled the movie out from the box it was sitting in and put it in the DVD player. Joshua dragged out the bean bag from his room and plopped down into it, but on second thought he dragged it closer to the couch, and patted the couch cushion. “Benrey sit here!”</p>
<p>Benrey’s celebrity status in Joshua’s eyes continued. Gordon sighed and sat on the couch, leaving room for Benrey who settled between him and Joshua, looking utterly comfortable. Too comfortable. As he was already deciding he was going to lean on Gordon. He draped the throw blanket around them.</p>
<p>“I’m not even cold,” Gordon muttered.</p>
<p>“I am,” Benrey said, leaning on his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Shh,” Joshua shushed them.</p>
<p>“Josh, I haven’t even hit play.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Joshua said petulantly. Gordon shook his head and nudged Benrey a little.</p>
<p>“You’re good with kids,” he finally accepted. “At least with Joshua.”</p>
<p>“He’s a lot like you,” Benrey said quietly.</p>
<p>There it was again. Gordon didn’t fight it this time, just sat quietly as he hit play and tried to think. Really? He couldn’t have really forgot things from his childhood like a whole ass monster of a creature, Benrey. Gordon closed his eyes for a moment, and felt silly, but tried to think.</p>
<p>Ten years old. There was always a feeling of something substantial happening, but he thought it was the pressure of 6<sup>th</sup> grade and all the rumors that’d it’d be so hard which was laughable now he was an adult. Gordon walked himself through his memories and came to a halt during the summer where something felt…off.</p>
<p>Like he could nearly remember something, but not quite. Gordon blocked out the sound of the movie and unconsciously clenched his fists and then.</p>
<p><em>So many colors. Yelling. Water. Pain</em>—</p>
<p>Gordon opened his eyes and felt something wet under his nose and reached up with his left hand carefully, jostling Benrey somewhat. Benrey ended up seeing it before Gordon could fully understand—he was bleeding from his nose.</p>
<p>“That normal?” Benrey asked quietly.</p>
<p>Gordon just stared at the blood on his fingertips. If Black Mesa taught him anything, there was rarely as many coincidences with the preternatural. He wiped it away and felt Benrey’s growing concern. “Gordon?”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Gordon said. “Just…dry nose.”</p>
<p>“…huh,” Benrey said. He didn’t seem satisfied, but he let it go, eyes darting back to Gordon for a minute or so before they went to the screen. Gordon ended up falling asleep. The lulling tones of Owen Wilson and the plot put him to sleep and he dreamed of Black Mesa’s halls, but he was the wrong age.</p>
<p>He was ten, and the halls were too tall, too wide. The faceless shapes too tall. The cold and pulsing energy of Black Mesa felt all consuming and he heard a sound like screaming, but as if tuned and imagined to be notes on an organ mixed with the wail of a clarinet.</p>
<p>Gordon was drawn to the sound as the Black Mesa’s colorless landscape began to be consumed by these colors. At one point the corridor turned to water and he began to at first soak his shoes into the cold, but shallow water.</p>
<p>The further he went towards the color and screaming, the deeper the water became until it was up to his shoulders and the orb of light where the screaming and colors and feeling of intense anguish came from was surrounding him. He reached into the light, as if knowing what it contained and felt a hand around his. Gray eyes staring at him from the color and if he stared harder he’d know what was behind the light.</p>
<p>Gordon was shaken awake by Benrey. The TV was alight with Banjo Kazooie. Joshua was playing, unconcerned and Benrey looked utterly terrified, gripping Gordon’s shoulders and staring into his eyes like he was sure Gordon had nearly died in his sleep.</p>
<p>“Your heart stopped,” Benrey said.</p>
<p>Apparently, he had nearly died.</p>
<p>Gordon had a pounding headache and just batted Benrey’s hands away and adjusted his glasses which had pressed painfully into his sleeping face. He put a hand up to his chest and felt his heart pumping, semi-eratically, but the cold sweat on his back was hardly a new thing. Anxiety and PTSD had caused him to wake up with his heart racing.</p>
<p>“It was probably just anxiety from the dream,” Gordon said. He'd been having nightmares nearly every time he slept since Black Mesa. He wasn't concerned. </p>
<p>Benrey shook his head. “Don’t like it. What were you dreaming about?”</p>
<p>“Nothing special, just Black Mesa,” Gordon assured him. “Hungry for supper, either of you?”</p>
<p>“Can we order pizza?” Joshua asked. “I don’t want a sandwich for dinner.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Gordon said, and he glanced at Benrey who was still surveying Gordon like he expected Gordon to drop dead. Gordon just shook his head at Benrey. Benrey blew sweet voice at him, which Gordon unluckily didn’t have the forethought to dodge.</p>
<p>Benrey just smiled innocently as Gordon ran a hand over his face and Joshua giggled.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>The pizza arrived soon enough, and Gordon pried Joshua off of the TV to get him to focus only on eating. Benrey used his mouth for eating this time but seemed to be intentionally trying to annoy Gordon by using increasingly odd ways to eat his pizza which Joshua seemed to pick up on and try to copy. It was creating a mess, and Gordon just tried his best to ignore it. One attempt by Benrey to shove the entire pizza slice into his mouth while rolled up resulted in him gagging and hacking and Gordon almost considering attempting the Heimlich until Benrey finally got it down.</p>
<p>“You’re disgusting,” Gordon said, though he’d been laughing, as Benrey gargled soda in his mouth.</p>
<p>“Sucks you’ve never seen how a pro-gamer eats pizza,” Benrey retorted.</p>
<p>“You nearly choked to death on that,” Gordon pointed out.</p>
<p>“Forgot how to eat that way,” Benrey said.</p>
<p>“Dad almost chokes on food a lot too,” Joshua said dutifully, and Gordon shot his son an exasperated look. “He’s always distracted while he’s eating.”</p>
<p>“Not a lot,” Gordon said weakly.</p>
<p>“One time he was reading one of his work things and he wasn’t even looking while he ate and he just like kept shoveling food in his mouth and then he started coughing like,” Joshua paused his rambling to mimic Gordon’s coughing, clutching a hand to his chest and tapping the table with his hand, “and then had to drink a lot of water.”</p>
<p>Benrey cracked up and Gordon felt his face heat up. “Look, it wasn’t that bad—”</p>
<p>“It was!” Josh said. Gordon just shook his head, taking a bite of his pizza slice and Benrey shook his head fondly, sipping his soda normally. “Dad used to be really distracted all the time,” Joshua said in after thought.</p>
<p>“That so?” Benrey questioned over the soda can.</p>
<p>“Mhm!” Joshua said. “Mom says he loves his job a lot and that’s why.”</p>
<p>Gordon shrugged, feeling somewhat ashamed by that. He tried to focus on Joshua on weekends, especially since now he had a proper chance with Black Mesa gone and his life priorities re-evaluated after his near-death experiences at Black Mesa.</p>
<p>“I love you a lot more than I’ll ever love a job,” Gordon said sincerely to Joshua. Joshua nodded absently, not really caring, because he was too interested in impressing Benrey by throwing his dad under the bus.</p>
<p>“Mom also said dad was so focused on his job he forgot my birthday when I was two!” Joshua added.</p>
<p>“She really told you about that?” Gordon questioned, a little hurt. Joshua didn’t seem bothered and just nodded.</p>
<p>“Mhm! She said so during those weeks you were at work for a long time!” Joshua said. Benrey let out a low whistle, and Gordon just sighed, taking a sip from the soda. He couldn’t blame Marla for being passive-aggressively angry at him when he was in Black Mesa for weeks, but really—did she really have to mention that.</p>
<p>“You and uh…his mom?” Benrey questioned.</p>
<p>“Work was why we broke up too,” Gordon admitted. “We’re making it work best we can. She’s not bad or anything, but uh…I…I didn’t really think about much outside Black Mesa for a lot of…the time,” Gordon said. “Now,” Gordon snorted and took a long sip of soda. “I wish I could think about anything else. I wish I had some hobby to fall back on.”</p>
<p>Joshua was listening to Gordon but was antsy. Uninterested in the serious conversation. “Benrey, my birthday is in…” Joshua counted on his fingers. “Four months! On the 22<sup>nd</sup>!”</p>
<p>“It’s in five months,” Gordon corrected.</p>
<p>“Five months!” Joshua echoed.</p>
<p>“How old will you be, little bro?” Benrey questioned.</p>
<p>“I’m going to be eight!”</p>
<p>“Wow, that’s so old,” Benrey said and Joshua nodded. Gordon was grateful not to have to talk about his now he realized meaningless priorities of getting promotions at Black Mesa, and moving up and maybe getting funding for his own research project one day when that was all down the drain and his kid who he loved, but never could fully focus on was the only thing keeping him going now.</p>
<p>“Will you get me a present?” Joshua questioned.</p>
<p>Gordon shook his head. “Joshua, that isn’t polite—”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Whatcha want?” Benrey said.</p>
<p>Joshua thought about it. “A laser gun! Like your laser mouth beams!”</p>
<p>“Do you want it to actually burn through shit?” Benrey said.</p>
<p>“Yeah!”</p>
<p>“No,” Gordon said firmly, shutting that down. “No laser guns—and no cursing.”</p>
<p>Benrey winked at Joshua who grinned, and Gordon kicked Benrey’s shin under the table. That wasn’t happening. Eventually, Joshua talked himself into sleepiness, and Gordon had to gently prod Joshua into going to wash-up and brush his teeth. He did so, if a bit reluctantly as he nearly was about to fall asleep at the dinner table.</p>
<p>Gordon washed everything up and added a few more things to packing boxes as Benrey idled on the couch, humming soft notes to himself, sweet voice rising up. The tune was almost familiar, but not quite and Gordon glanced over at Benrey, hoping for a clue. The colors weren’t anything he could discern as meaningful and the tune was of no music he knew.</p>
<p>“Is it a song or…?” Gordon questioned as he broke the pizza box down to fit into the trash bag easier.</p>
<p>“No,” Benrey said. “Just. Feeling the room.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” Gordon said. “You know, I’m sometimes a little bit thankful for the resonance cascade,” Gordon said quietly.</p>
<p>Benrey just looked at him, and Gordon nodded.</p>
<p>“I know it sounds insane, but…” Gordon just laughed. “I was just so…focused on work and wrapped up in getting the next project done and I just lost focus of everything outside of work. I don’t even think I had any real deep friendships. No one else from Black Mesa to even reach out too—mostly, because I think most of them died, but,” Gordon laughed awkwardly, and rubbed the back of his neck. “But now…now it just feels like. I don’t know. A different life entirely. And I’m glad for the science team, even if I’m avoiding them.”</p>
<p>Benrey nodded, his sweet voice quieting some. “Yeah.”</p>
<p>“I’m also glad I met you,” Gordon said. “Even if you’re a pain in the ass.”</p>
<p>The notes stopped suddenly. Gordon glanced to Benrey. He was sitting on the couch still, eyes on the blank TV. “Benrey?” Gordon questioned.</p>
<p>The sweet voice continued. Benrey humming again. “Yeah.” Gordon just let it go, sighing and turning off the kitchen light and sitting down on the couch next to Benrey. Benrey didn’t mind him much, filling the room with the sweet voice orbs and Gordon sighed, leaning his head against the back of the couch and just staring at the orbs.</p>
<p>“You ever…” Gordon said, but trailed off, thoughts lost with the colorful orbs filling the room.</p>
<p>A questioning hum from Benrey.</p>
<p>Gordon wasn’t even sure what he was going to ask. Instead, he sat up, rubbing where his glasses were bruising his nose and sighed. “I think I’m going to head to bed. Are you going to be alright on the couch again?”</p>
<p>Benrey nodded. He had gone quiet now, and Gordon was concerned, but figured maybe Benrey was worn out. He instead pat the alien’s shoulder and stood up, checking in on Joshua before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.</p>
<p>When he was about to turn lights off for the night, he cast a look back out at Benrey, and saw him sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyes still trained on the blank TV screen, sweet voice quietly drifting out of his mouth and casting soft light around the living room.</p>
<p>Gordon quietly closed the door to his bedroom and tried to sleep.</p>
<p>But for Gordon, sleep was rarely peaceful.</p>
<p>The usual backdrop played out. Black Mesa, lonely, blood spattered, full of alien gunk and fluids and headcrabs scuttling across the floor trying to find a zombie host, and faceless military men raising assault rifles to fire upon him.</p>
<p>But this time his son is there, amid all those horrid creatures and aliens, amid the faceless monster men in their green with patriotic US flags over their heart. His son, with his hands over his ears screaming, panicked and afraid. The faceless military men encircle him with guns pointed at his son.</p>
<p>But suddenly they’re all so far away, and there’s an army of aliens between him and his son and his crowbar isn’t enough and the hallway is so long. His HEV suit falls away as he fights his way down the hall until he’s in his old garb of a lab coat and a button-up and slacks, and it’s ripped and bloody as he fights his way down to his son.</p>
<p>His hair comes loose and becomes matted around his face and he screams. He runs, but he is held back, his arm in the grip of aliens that have Benrey’s eyes. When he tugs his arm away it comes off, this time at the shoulder, blood running down his body and Gordon doesn’t care, because he needs to get to his son. Why is this hallway so long?</p>
<p>It feels as if stretches, as if his limbs are frozen, as if hands are pulling him back. Just as he gets near there’s the sound of gunfire spraying against walls, and flesh and his son’s screams go silent.</p>
<p>“Joshua!” Gordon screams, but he knows he is too late. He runs anyway towards the soldiers, his crowbar tightly gripped in his only good hand and he runs into the hail of gunfire as the lights overhead get brighter and brighter until the hallway is white with light.</p>
<p>When he gets out of the light he is no longer in the cramped corridors of Black Mesa. The sun is starting to set overhead, and trees stretch towards the sky around him. The woods are so familiar to him, as is the old tire swing still hanging from an oak near their house, the rarely used toolshed his mother built one year, and the distinct smell of flowers and earthy tones.</p>
<p>Gordon is in the backyard of his childhood home, at the edge of the woods.</p>
<p>From inside the woods he hears his son crying out for him. “Dad!” it screams. Gordon runs into the woods blindly, the setting sun already too low to properly light the woods that are now filled with shadows and sharp branches that whip over his face and arms as he runs in the direction he heard his son.</p>
<p>Shadows press in as he runs, whispering, muttering lies and secrets he cannot hear and eyes open from within these shadows, detached bodies following him as he runs, and runs, as the ground feels like it’s falling beneath his feet.</p>
<p>“Dad, where are you?”</p>
<p>“Joshua!” Gordon screams.</p>
<p>The woods lack the distinguishing features he knows in the back of his mind they should have. Just trees of all the same-thickness, same height, bushes lining all of them with thorns and barbs sticking to his clothes.</p>
<p>The weeds that grow up from the ground are no less kind and he feels them digging into his shoes—no longer his professional leather loafers for work, but tennis shoes that do not resist the spiked balls. Into his socks which are not the decorative ones he wears up to his ankles under his slacks. Those slacks are gone too—instead he wears the shorts that exposed his knees as he did in his childhood, the shorts that left his knees to get scraped and whacked by rocks jutting out of nowhere, tree branches fallen and just in the shadows enough he does not see them as trips and stumbles and they dig into his flesh.</p>
<p>The lab coat is gone suddenly too, ripped to pieces by branches that feel more like fingers, pulling at his hair, his coat, his skin if he stops for too long trying to hear where his son last cried out from. Soon, his button-up is not what it was, instead the striped t-shirt of his youth, the charming picture of a dog still embroidered at his corner.</p>
<p>Everything is so much taller, the trees feel like skyscrapers, the hills like mountains.</p>
<p>It’s getting so dark; the shadows are pushing in around him. He needs to find his son.</p>
<p>He needs to be home before dark, his mother always told him so.</p>
<p>“Dad?” Why does Joshua’s voice sound so far away? Gordon’s been running so hard, his throat feels like it’s on fire, his heart is beating erratically and fearful.</p>
<p>“Josh! Where are you?” Gordon shouts.</p>
<p>Nothing answers. The tree branches feel like they’re clawing at him, splintering off into his skin and trying to force him to stop. He fights them, his arms braced as he dives through these branches to get further. He will get to his son.</p>
<p>But all too suddenly the tree branches disappear, and he crashes to the sandy and loamy slope that drifts into lake. He feels battered and bruised, but he knows from here, that the small hunched figure on the other side of the lake must be his son.</p>
<p>So, Gordon runs over there, his heart pounding. “Joshua!” Gordon cries out. Why is his baby not moving? Why is he laying still? “Joshie!”</p>
<p>The small figure does not move, and Gordon falls to the ground next to them, uncaring of the bruises. He kneels and puts a hand on the small figure’s back as shadows press in.</p>
<p>Joshua looks up at him, but it isn’t quite Joshua. His nose is too narrow, his cheeks too low, his form is flickering. “Why did you let them get me?” Joshua says, but it’s not Joshua’s voice. Every low part is too low. Every high part too high. The pacing is wrong. This is not Joshua.</p>
<p>The figure floats up, its form further distorting and the head jerks to an odd angle. The fingers become long and jagged like the tree branches, the eyes stretch into gaping pits and the eyeballs detach, falling onto the ground in front of him as he scuttles backward, desperately, raising a hand in front of his face as if to defend himself, but his hand on that arm is not there.</p>
<p>The eyes on the ground roll to stare at him, glowing red. The mouth of the rising figure opens and opens and it cries out, “Why didn’t you save me?”</p>
<p>Gordon feels small as the figure stretches as tall as the trees which blind around him. The water of the lake is bubbling and rising and threatening to boil over. The gaps between the trees are filled with shadows and faceless military men all getting closer, and closer, and reaching for him, cold lifeless fingers grasping him. The boiling water of the lake rises up in a tide threatening to crash down as the mutilated form that mimicked his son groans out, “Why did you let me die?”</p>
<p>Gordon screams, hands clawing at him and holding him down and pinning him and he scratches against them with whatever hands he has, gripping these arms where he can. His fingers wrap around something and he holds it tight as a sound repeats several times, but he cannot make it out…</p>
<p>“Let go, let go!” Gordon screamed, prying at what must be the hands of military men or branches dragging him to his death.</p>
<p>“Calm down…calm please,” the voice said with a hint of frantic desperation. Gordon felt something like mist on his face. He opened his eyes and through the fading blue orbs saw wide yellow eyes filled with concern and fear.</p>
<p>Benrey was kneeling beside him in bed, his hands gripping Gordon’s shoulders. Gordon’s fingers were clenched so tightly on Benrey’s upper arms, he’s losing blood circulation in his own fingers. He let go, the numbness in his hands fading as he did so. Gordon took a deep breath, smelling the ozone, gunpowder and strangely Coca-Cola scent that clung to Benrey.</p>
<p>He was in bed. He was home. He was safe.</p>
<p>Benrey hesitantly released his hold on Gordon’s shoulders, letting one hand remain resting on Gordon over his where Gordon’s heart should be.</p>
<p>“Heart stopped again,” Benrey said quietly.</p>
<p>“Just a nightmare,” Gordon said. He sat up for a moment, feeling his muscles protest like they’d been coiled up tightly the entire night. “Just,” Gordon rubbed his face. “Did I wake up Joshua?” Gordon questioned.</p>
<p>Benrey pulled his hand back and wrapped his arms around himself, sitting tightly bunched up on Gordon’s bed. “No,” he said.</p>
<p>Gordon sighed in relief and grabbed the ponytail holder on his nightstand and ran a hand through his sweaty hair before tugging it into a messy bun to get it off the back of his neck. His shirt was wet in the back with sweat and his blankets felt to confining. He turned to Benrey, “Guess you weren’t asleep again?” Gordon questioned.</p>
<p>Benrey shrugged. “No. Heard you…talking in your sleep,” Benrey said. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. Gordon noticed the way the faint light from the street bounced off Benrey’s head and realized he was wearing the broken helmet again.</p>
<p>Gordon cracked a wry smile. “Wish I could not sleep,” Gordon said and kicked the blankets off before laying back down. He was too mentally exhausted to consider getting up and changing his clothes or addressing the fact he had another nightmare again. Instead, he just stared at Benrey. In the darkness of his room he could only see the outline of his form and glowing yellow eyes. “I appreciate your concern, but are you okay?”</p>
<p>Benrey hummed in confusion.</p>
<p>Gordon sighed and rolled onto his side to face Benrey properly. He covered his mouth to avoid yawning. “I feel like you’re watch…watchdogging…watching me to avoid some shit…or something,” Gordon didn’t stop the yawn. “I dunno. I’m about to fall back asleep,” Gordon said, resting his head comfortably on his pillow.</p>
<p>Benrey shrugged and moved his arms, resting his hands near his feet.  “Could go back out there,” he gestured to the living room.</p>
<p>Gordon shook his head absently into the pillow, shifting a hand to grip the pillow. “Might as well stay. We all slept like…inches apart in Black Mesa. No harm in you sleeping in my bed,” Gordon muttered. “At least try to sleep.” Gordon let his eyes slip closed and he felt the bed shift. He opened his eyes a crack and saw Benrey hadn’t laid down but shifted to rest his back against the headboard.</p>
<p>“Can’t sleep,” Benrey said quietly. “Not safe.”</p>
<p>Gordon opened his eyes fully and took in the way Benrey’s eyes went to the window and his shoulders hunched up to his ears.</p>
<p>“Benrey,” Gordon murmured.</p>
<p>Benrey shrugged dismissively. “It’s fine. Just. Always not safe ‘cuz always gonna be people who think I’m bad. ‘m not part of this world,” Benrey stated bitterly.</p>
<p>“You don’t deserve…” Gordon stopped, and he reached a hand out and gently put it on Benrey’s arm. Benrey glanced to him. “You’ll be safest at Tommy’s. With Sunkist and Tommy’s weird dad.”</p>
<p>Benrey put a hand on top of Gordon’s but shook his head. “Just want to be with the…person I have…uh…most…gamer…something. Fuck. Want to be with you,” Benrey admitted.</p>
<p>It was…Gordon wished he was more awake for this. He wracked his mind, but didn’t know what to say. His mind was still on the previous issue which was if someone attacked, Gordon didn’t…couldn’t fight again. “I can’t protect you,” Gordon said. “I don’t have guns. No crowbar anymore. I only have one hand that’s mega strong. I don’t want you to get hurt and it’s because I chose—” Gordon rambled half coherently.</p>
<p>“Gordon,” Benrey said softly. He sighed, sweet voice coming out with it. An orb that couldn’t really choose its color hung in the air and danced between lime and a yellower color before it sunk into the bedspread. “Not just about you. Your dumb choice. My choice,” Benrey said firmly.</p>
<p>“But I’m apart of that choice,” Gordon argued. He yawned loud and long and blinked blearily, fighting to stay awake. His eyes were closing again, and he gestured absently with his hand, letting go of his pillow to do so. “I get it…I’m the first person you could find and Sunkist is scary and Tommy’s dad is….<em>yaawwwwwwwwn</em>. Scary. But…” Gordon struggled to finish the thought and he caught a flash of Benrey’s teeth as he laughed.</p>
<p>Benrey closed his eyes, and gently lowered Gordon’s hand from his arm to the bedspread, his fingers twining between Gordon’s. “Sleep Gordo, got parenting to do in mornin.”</p>
<p>“Sleep too, Benrey,” Gordon muttered closing his eyes. “Can’t PSN and passport…on…empty…sleep,” Gordon was falling asleep, but as lost consciousness he heard Benrey start humming again, quiet notes with sweet voice gently drifting out as he ran his thumb over the back of Gordon’s hand.</p>
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